Just Perhaps
by Lisa4
Summary: Updated to now include a companion piece with Mamo's p.o.v.! Usa/Mamo first season. Usagi's and Mamoru's musings during one of their daily "accidental" encounters.
1. Just Perhaps (Usagi's View)

_Title: Just Perhaps_

 _Author: Lisa_

 _Rating: PG_

 _Author's Notes:_

 _Here's another ficlet from me! I seem to be on a kick of super short one-shots these days…hope you don't mind too much, as they're pretty fun to write. Please review at the end!_

 _Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and the others don't belong to me, but this story does._

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You know that feeling that you get when you like someone, I mean, _really_ like someone? That immediate, exhilarating rush that goes straight to your head and leaves you feeling just a bit dizzy, your knees just a bit shaky, your palms sweaty, your heart clamoring, and your face hot? Well, I feel all those things and more every time I see _him_. Actually—who am I kidding—when I even so much as _think_ about him really.

How pathetic was that? And what was a young, lively, possibly attractive (the jury was still out on that, at least in my mind) but tragically klutzy (I still maintain it wasn't really _my_ fault that people happened to expertly place tables, chairs and walls for me to run into) girl like me to do in this situation? Not confess, surely, unless I felt particularly inclined to crawl into a corner and waste away in my shame immediately thereafter. No, apparently the solution was to bite his head off—not literally, of course—every time I "just so happened" to run into him. So began the month-long _Usagi and Mamoru Show_ that ran every weekday morning, right around the time I was supposed to show up for Haruna-sensei's class. The scary part was how addicted I had become to this show. In fact, I had even started to enjoy weekends less because Saturdays and Sundays now denied me my daily fix.

I fiddled by the street corner prepared to make my entrance and, without fail, heard Mamoru's distinct footsteps approaching. He had a unique stride, steady and methodical, that allowed me to make sure I was barreling into him and not some poor unsuspecting stranger every morning. It also helped that he seemed obsessively punctual. Opposites attract, right? And it wasn't like I _wanted_ to be late and get detention every day, but I digress...

As his footsteps neared, I filled my lungs with the crisp fall air, closed my eyes, and made my blind dash onto the sidewalk with a smile on my face that couldn't be helped.

"Oy, Odango Atama!"

My smile widened in receiving confirmation that I had hit once again my intended target. Cue the start of the latest episode of our riveting drama. "How many times do I have to tell you to watch where you're going?" I loved the deep, rumbling sound of his voice; he could yell at me all day for all I cared. I felt the muscles in his arms tense from supporting my weight beneath his shirt and wondered what it would be like to actually touch them without that pesky layer of fabric in the way. I was drowning in his warmth, his scent, and as always, it took all the willpower in me to extract myself from his unwilling embrace and distort my face into my trademark glare for him.

"And how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that, Mamo-baka?" Not the most original retort I would admit, but it seemed to get the job done.

He frowned, and I blessed every line on his forehead, the way his brow furrowed, and the slight downturn of his lips as he protested that hated nickname. He folded his arms in irritation and pinned those blue eyes on me. Who needed to go to the actual ocean when I could be swept away by the depths of those stormy blues every day? I mentally cringed at the sappiness of my thoughts, but how could I help myself? How could one man truly be that infuriatingly beautiful? It was further proof that life wasn't fair and that some people had all the luck.

"Do you always need to run so fast? With that speed and force, you'd think I was run over by a truck." He blessed me with another one of his glares while rubbing an aching shoulder.

"Well, why do you always have to be in _my_ way? I have places to go and people to see, you know." Not any place or person I'd rather be or see more than in this very street corner, facing this oh-so-devastatingly handsome man, but he didn't need to know that. It would go straight to his head.

"No one's stopping you." He bowed dramatically as he moved out of my way with one graceful step. "I'm sure you have another math test to fail." Ouch. I hated that he was always right. It was as if he could read my mind or predict the future or something.

"You baka! Why don't you just…" I stopped there in case some higher power overhead and actually decided to make it reality. The truth was that I didn't want him to disappear. I wanted him beside me, all day, every day…preferably not looking at me as if I were the last person on Earth that he wanted to be interacting with. I wanted to feel those arms wrapped around me, his lips against my ear, whispering that he secretly enjoyed these little spats at much as I do.

"Why don't I just…" He was waiting for me to continue, I dazedly realized, but my brain had all but lost its ability to string together coherent words.

 _Without even a second's warning, I flung myself against him, causing him to stagger back against the lamppost from the unexpected weight. Throwing all caution to the wind, my arms were now desperately clawing at his chest, a month's worth of dreams and wistful thinking now coming to the forefront as I all but attacked the man with the full force of my pent-up desire. I reached up on my tiptoes and crashed my lips against his and savored the taste of chocolate and coffee that immediately infused my senses and left me craving more. My hands were drowning in that perfect hair of his that I now tousled with glee. I pushed myself closer still, until I could literally feel the pounding of his heart through my uniform. Still I wanted more, I wanted to drown in those impossibly strong hands that now grasped me with matching urgency…_

"Odango?"

I knew it was too good to be true. If I could scream in equal parts frustration and embarrassment without scaring the poor man, I would. Instead, I shook my head to clear away the last of my traitorous fantasies, all too aware that my cheeks were now the color of ripe tomatoes. Wait, was that concern I detected in his voice? I peeked up at Mamoru, who was looking at me as if I'd suddenly grown two heads. How romantic.

I sighed and turned away from him to hide my humiliation. "Just go," I whispered, "I'm sure you have places to go and people to see too."

I thought for sure he would take off at the first opportunity and run from the girl who was clearly mentally unstable on top of a whole list of other issues. Instead, he lingered for reasons I couldn't fathom.

"I—" He faltered, and the tiniest part of me wondered if there was any conceivable chance…that maybe…I didn't disgust him as much as he led me to believe. "I guess I'll see you around then, Odango." It sounded like more of a question, yet one I didn't deem fit to answer. As his steps gradually faded into the distance, I turned to look at his retreating back.

So ended another episode of the _Usagi and Mamoru Show_ , which had unfortunately concluded as predictably as the rest in the series. But one day, likely not tomorrow, maybe not even the next week or the month following…but one day, just perhaps, we would not part ways with insults.

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 _Hmm, so what'd you think? If you've read my stuff before, you know I usually do Mamoru's p.o.v. in fics, but I decided to try my hand at something a little different this time! Hope it wasn't too horrible or off character or anything. Let me know what you think!_

 _This story was written and posted September 2015._


	2. Just Perhaps (Mamoru's View)

_Title: Just Perhaps (Mamoru's View)_

 _Author: Lisa_

 _Rating: PG_

 _Author's Notes:_

 _One of my lovely reviewers, mae-E, suggested that I do a sequel to this fic from Mamoru's p.o.v. (which is really more up my alley in case you haven't read my other stuff), and I thought it might be fun! This isn't quite a sequel, more like a companion piece, but hope it's still worth a read anyway. Let me know your thoughts! :)_

 _Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and the others don't belong to me, but this story does._

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I was in danger, so much danger, of breaking the last threads of self-control that kept me from falling over the edge into the infinitely frightening abyss that others called love. I had never considered myself an emotional person—quite the opposite actually, as my best friend Motoki would happily attest to—yet ever since _she_ hit me with that crumbled up test paper, every day now became a struggle to rein in the maddening thoughts and feelings that always seemed to catch me off guard in the most inopportune moments. Usagi might as well have hit me with a boulder rather than paper, but I'm pretty sure my brain hasn't functioned properly since that incident. That was how I found myself taking the long way to class every day, always at the same time (who knew the girl could be so exact in her timing when she seemed to be late for just about everything else), only to have the pleasure of coming into the direct path of a mini-blond tornado. Our exchanges were as forceful as the initial impact and left me breathless—quite literally—each time. I lived for those precious moments with the impossibly beautiful angel who I was quite sure would never give me the time of day otherwise. Pathetic, I know…but I had long since given up on the fact that I was destined for happiness in this world.

I turned the corner, checked my watch to confirm the time, and drew in an anxious breath, silently praying that she had not decided to switch up her routine out of the blue. I shuddered to think of what I'd do without my daily fix of Usagi…

Without fail, I felt her small, warm body pummel into me with surprising strength. I clung onto her with silent desperation, reveling in the feel of her arms underneath my palms, delighting in the sound of her small breaths of exertion that left little puffs of steam in chilly fall air, and admiring the way the morning sunlight reflected in her sky-blue eyes and transformed her blond hair into molten gold. Today, like every day, I was forcibly struck by her beauty.

Yet all good things must come to an end, and I had a show to perform. I reached into my repertoire of insults and pulled out my standard issue, armed and ready to engage in the verbal sparring that, in my opinion at least, soured the closeness we had just shared.

"Oy, Odango Atama!" I secretly loved the nickname I had come up for her. It was our little secret…of course she hated it with fiery passion. "How many times do I have to tell you to watch where you're going?"

"And how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that, Mamo-baka?" I didn't mind being called Mamo-baka all day if it meant I could listen to that delightful ringing voice of hers. Others may call it shrill, but love is blind as they say.

As if on cue, I put on an outward façade of irritation by flashing her my most convincing frown and folding my arms dramatically in front of my chest. That should do the trick. And that would show Motoki for grumbling that I wouldn't take that acting class with him. Who needed to take a class when I was living the ultimate act?

"Do you always need to run so fast? With that speed and force, you'd think I was run over by a truck." I offered her another signature glare and made a show of rubbing my shoulder from having been at the receiving end of her physical assault. Really though, it was my heart that needed medical attention given how traitorously fast it was beating.

"Well, why do you always have to be in _my_ way? I have places to go and people to see, you know." My heart suddenly reversed course and all but stopped at hearing those words. Of course she had people to see, plenty of them I would imagine. Plenty of men who would love to stare into those eyes as vast and endless as the sky, to hold her hand, to taste those delightfully pink lips…

"No one's stopping you." Those words came out harsher than I had intended, spurred by the painful thoughts of my Usagi (who am I kidding…she would never be mine) with some dark handsome stranger. I bowed dramatically and cleared the path for her escape. I suddenly felt the weight of my past and the loneliness of my future hit me like a brick wall. "I'm sure you have another math test to fail." Again with the insults. I might as well dig my grave deeper and deeper and just stay in there for good measure.

"You baka! Why don't you just…"

"Why don't I just…" I dared to look into those sky-blues once more, aching for some alternate reality where she didn't curse my existence. Her eyes were glazed over and had a frightening far-away look in them. Perhaps she was plotting strategic ways for my untimely demise… "Odango?"

"Just go," she whispered finally with a strange sadness that sent chills down the length of my spine, and I felt the remaining remnants of my heart shatter. "I'm sure you have places to go and people to see too." If only she knew…

"I—" I had no words, except the ones that I was certain she never wanted to hear. The truth was, I really _didn't_ have places to go and people to see. I wanted nothing more than to go where she went, to see her and not have her face contort in disgust. And one day, just perhaps, I'd finally build up the courage to tell her that. Not today, however. Today I had to readily concede defeat to my cowardice once again.

"I guess I'll see you around then, Odango," I said lamely and snuck one last glance at the uncharacteristically silent blond before I managed to get my feet working again. There was something in her eyes that I couldn't quite fathom as I made my shameful departure. But that was a mystery left to be solved for another day.

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 _Somehow when I write in Mamoru's p.o.v., it always gets a bit angsty haha. Anyway, please leave me a quick review! I'll be working on new chapters to "Shipwrecked" and "Remembrance" in the coming weeks, so please be on the lookout. Until then, take care!_

 _This story was written and posted October 2015._


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